Nothing Better
by Silver Zarathustra
Summary: Draco rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, elbows resting on his kneecaps. How could a girl like Hermione turn him into a love struck dolt? A muggleborn! no less. Long oneshot.


Draco lay on his bed, lazily watching dust fly and play in the sliver of light that had found it's way through the green curtains of his canopy bed. It was so quiet. The rooms of the Head Boy and Girl were, it seemed, miles away from any used corridor. He spent hours on his bed, straining his ears against the silence to see if he could pick up footsteps or voices of his fellow students. He never did.

He yawned widely, stretching his arms above his head and curling his toes for the full effect. He hadn't slept in weeks. Couldn't do it. His thoughts kept him up.

It was all _her _fault. He hadn't asked her to spend her nights with him; in the library, in the Head Boy and Girl common room. He never wanted to listen to her stories and her bickering and her theories and her secrets. He never asked her to let him open up.

It was all _her _bloody idea. _"Give me your Potions book. I'll quiz you. Trust me, it'll help." _... _"Honestly, the way these girls go on in the bathrooms and halls, you'd think they live simply to have boyfriends. I don't see what all the noise is about..." _... _"C'mon, Draco. There has to be _some _reason you've been so nasty all these years."_

You are Head Boy and I am Head Girl, she said. We're supposed to be guiding all the other students, we have to get along with each other on _some _level, she said.

And so he gave in, sick of her complaining and badgering. They talked and shared and laughed and cried. It was nauseating, really. But he had enjoyed it. A Malfoy, opening up! Who would've thought it possible?

Stupid, vile Mudblood.

He groaned. He hated calling her that. _Loathed _it. He didn't think she stupid; she was the single smartest person he'd ever met. He didn't find her vile; he, Merlin help him, found her irresistible.

He, Draco Malfoy, was in love with Hermione Granger.

It hurt him to even think about it.

_Will someone please call a surgeon  
Who can crack my ribs and repair this broken heart  
That you're deserting for better company?_

He didn't know how it happened . All those nights he'd spent with her talking in front of the fire in their common room. All those hours spent in the library pouring over books, studying for their advanced classes.

All those sneers he threw at her in the hallways with Crabbe and Goyle. All the scowls she tossed his way with Harry and Ron.

She'd often joke they were like Romeo and Juliet, only without the "star-crossed lovers" business. He had a very vague knowledge of who they were but laughed anyway. He then spent hours in the library trying to figure out what she was talking about. Finally, he cornered a fourth year muggle born in Ravenclaw and forced him to explain who these people were and what they did.

After that, his laugh was more serious.

And one day, he found himself thinking about what she was doing. That was innocent enough. Then he found himself throwing a smile instead of a glare at her in the corridors. Found himself staring at her across the Quidditch pitch, her face painted gold and scarlet and cheering.

'It's just an infatuation,' he told himself, 'it's nothing.'

In turned from an infatuation to something else about a month ago. Another long night in the library. A few lone candles hung in the air above their table. Draco had taken off his vest and tie, unbuttoned a few holes and untucked his shirt hours ago in an attempt to get comfortable. Hermione pushed her sleeves above her elbows.

"How do you manage that?" he'd asked her, staring at her from his seat on a windowsill.

"How do I manage what?" she asked him back, not looking up from her parchment.

He rested his arms atop his bent knees. "You are always in your uniform, and it seems like you find it more comfortable than your street clothes. I can barely stand being in my tie for my classes, let alone all day, five days a week."

She put her quill down and sat back in her chair. "I dunno. I never thought about it, really." She shrugged. "I guess I find it too much of a hassle to change into lounge clothes unless I'm sick or in for the night. Why, do I look bad?" She glanced down at herself.

"No, you look great."

She smiled. "Aww, thanks, Draco."

Merlin's beard, his name sounded so good on her tongue. He smirked. "Well, I must give credit where credit is due."

She stood and walked over to the window next to his and pushed it open. A breeze flew in, pushing her brown locks off her shoulders. Pulling her sweater over her head, she sighed. "Ah, much better. It's so warm in here." Letting it fall to the floor, she leaned out and stared at the sky.

Draco threw his legs around so he was facing the library and looked over at Hermione. His eyes wandered over her body, noticing the way her shirt and skirt hugged her delicate curves.

_It's Granger, you idiot. Stop that._

"Maybe I could be an astronomer," she said from nowhere, her voice snapping him out of his trance.

He jumped down and settled in next to her. "You could." He looked up at the heavens.

"I mean, look how gorgeous they are. So white against the dark blue. And they tell us so much."

"Also true."

"Stories. And, if I am to believe Firenze, the future."

Draco's gaze moved from the stars to Hermione's face, bathed in moonlight. "Fascinating."

"See, look there," she said, pointing out the window.

He quickly followed her arm to see a star shooting across the sky, it's tail bright and shining behind it.

"You saw it right?" she asked him excitedly. "You saw the shooting star, too?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Good," she grinned at him. "I was hoping so."

"Why?"

"Not many people see shooting stars at the same time, Draco. Now we have something no one else does. Forever."

And that was all it took.

She was in his arms and he was kissing her, and she wasn't protesting. He pressed her against the windowsill, her tongue darting into his mouth as deftly as a humming bird, leaving him wanting more. His hands wandered up her back, tangling their fingers in her hair. She playfully nipped his bottom and pulled away, gazing up at him with passion in her eyes.

"Come on," she whispered, her voice warm and husky.

Hermione grabbed her sweater and bag and started out of the library. She stopped and looked over her shoulder, leaning against the door. "See you upstairs." She tossed him a smile and a wink, and was gone.

Draco was not slow to follow.

He'd enjoyed that night, to say the least. Loved the fact that he had awoken the next morning to find an attractive brunette still sleeping in his arms. The sweet way she smelled of love.

And everything was great.

For about a week.

All of a sudden, she became distant. She came back from dinner and locked herself in her in her room. She showered at odd hours so she wouldn't run into him. She didn't smile at him in the halls, didn't sneer at him; she looked right through him.

The day before the last Hogsmeade visit, he'd caught her in the bathroom.

"Hermione?"

"What is it?" Her voice was like a blade: sharp and cold.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to... uhm... stop in The Hog's Head and grab a butterbeer with me?"

She threw open the door and glared at him. "Why?"

"Because I enjoy your company, and the butterbeer is just a bonus." He cast her a confused look, hoping she'd catch it and explain her attitude.

Either she didn't, or she was ignoring it.

"Oh. I'd love to, but I don't think I'll be able to make it. Drats." Her response dripped with sarcasm.

"Why not?"

"I am meeting up with Ronald tomorrow. We're making an evening of it."

Silence.

"You know, like a date."

Draco's jaw dropped. "A _date_? With _Weasley_?"

"I'm sorry, did I stutter or are you just not comprehending all of this?"

For Merlin's sake, what was with her wicked eyes? What happened to his meek study buddy?

"I got it," he snapped. "But why?"

"Because I enjoy his company, and the butterbeer we'll get at The Three Broomsticks is just a bonus." She stepped back and slammed the door shut. "Now, if you don't mind," she called to him, "I'd like to bathe without interruption, thank you."

Draco stood there for a moment, stunned.

"_Goodbye_, Malfoy."

His stomach clenched and he sneered at the door. "Whatever you say, _Mudblood_."

_I can't accept that it's over...  
I will block the door like a goalie tending the net  
In the third quarter of a tied-game rivalry_

_So just say how to make it right  
And I swear I'll do my best to comply_

What had happened? Where had he gone wrong? For the first time in his life, Draco had been happy, but somehow he'd managed to royally mess it up.

Frustrated with himself, he pushed himself out of bed. The sun beamed outside his window bringing with it a cheerful mood Draco was not in the mood for. Not bothering with his wand, he gripped his heavy curtains and pulled them closed with a strong tug. The velvet burned beneath his palms. He hated the feel of velvet. For a reason unknown to him, it made his mind wander back to Granger.

He let out an angry yell and frustrated, grabbed fistfuls of blond hair while he paced the length of his room.

He needed her back. She'd taken a piece of him, and he wasn't used to having a void.

"I'll get her back," he said aloud to no one.

Outside his room, he heard a door open and close, followed by footsteps.

Hermione was back.

He pushed open his door and ran across the common room, jumping over and dodging furniture. She stepped into her room and, casting him a deadly look, swung her door shut just as Draco, stumbling, managed to get his arm in the jam. It slammed against his elbow with a dull thud. He clenched his jaw against his grunt of pain and pushed open the door with his other hand.

"What is it, Malfoy?" She turned her back to him and busied herself with her desk.

Rubbing his elbow, he asked, "Why do you keeping calling me Malfoy? What happened to Draco?"

"I call my friends by their first names, Malfoy. You, on the other hand, are a prat, so you get your surname."

He kicked the door shut behind him. "What is you problem, Granger? We were fine, and all of a sudden you decided we weren't on speaking terms."

"Granger? Whatever ever happened to Hermione?" Her tone was innocent and admonitory.

_When did she learn to act like this? _he wondered. "Listen all I want to know is what happened? What the hell did I do to piss you off this badly?"

"I don't want to talk about this right now." She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked up to him. She looked at him expectantly. When he made no signs of getting out of her way, her eyes filled with anger. "_Move_."

"No." Draco folded his arms across his chest. "Not until you tell me what I did. How am I going to fix it if you never say what it was that I did?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I said, '_move_'. It wasn't a request. Now, you'd best get the hell out of my way, before I do something drastic."

"You? Do something drastic?" he scoffed. "That'll be the day."

Without missing a beat, her arm plunged into her bag and come back out with her wand. "Malfoy, I am not in the mood to argue with you right now. I just want to go to the library."

"Not until I get an explanation."

She took a step back and pointed her wand between his eyes. "Get. The hell. Out of my way." she growled through her teeth.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"NO!"

"Then I'm not moving."

Hermione's nostrils flared with a rage that filled her eyes. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth. "_Furn_-"

Fearing the how painful her boils would be in her current state, Draco raised his hands in the air defensively. "Whoa, whoa. Alright. Fine, I'll move." He sidestepped to the left, hands still in the air.

With a venomous look, she pulled open the door and stomped out.

_Tell me am I right to think that there could be nothing better  
Than making you my bride and slowly growing old together_

Draco stood there, heart beating rapidly against his chest. This was completely new to him, the feeling of utter heartbreak. He walked out of Hermione's room and sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace, pulling his knees to his chest. With Pansy and all the other Slytherin chippies, it had been all for pleasure and that was it. That was how he liked it. But with Hermione, it had been more than that.

Before that night, before anything had even happened, every moment spent with her was one he enjoyed. The arguments about something more important than a stupid quidditch match. Studying for exams together. Merlin, he even loved the way she chewed the Pumpkin Pasties he'd nab from the kitchens.

Draco rubbed the heels of his palms into eyes, elbows resting on his kneecaps. How could a girl like Hermione turn him into a love struck dolt? A muggleborn! no less.

For the first time in a long while, he felt exhausted. He stretched out on the couch, intending to catch and talk to Hermione on her way back. He quickly slipped into a deep slumber. So deep, in fact, that he didn't wake up when she returned, and slept through til morning.

-

Days went by and Draco saw Hermione only during classes and meals. She ignored his existence, and disappeared quickly whenever he tried to approach her. If she hadn't pressed into his head that it couldn't be done on Hogwarts' grounds, he'd swear she would Disapparate.

She never came back to her room at night. He searched the library but couldn't find her. He had a feeling she was staying in the Gryffindor common room and grabbing changes of clothes when he was off with his friends.

But that wasn't what made him so angry.

What threw him into bouts of rage, what pushed him over the edge on the occasions where he hurled his possessions against the walls, what made him tug at his silvery hair until strands were woven between his long fingers when he pulled his hands away... was the fact he'd allowed himself to sink to this level.

He was a Malfoy. Malfoys didn't allow their emotions to control them. They never let their feelings to show externally. And they, above _everything else_, did not get involved with filthy muggleborns. And here he was, desperately wanting Hermione back in his arms, to listen to his name dance on her tongue.

He _needed_ it more than the air that filled his lungs. Air couldn't hold a torch to the necessity Hermione was for him.

-

He told his friends he wasn't feeling well and stayed in their common room, waiting. He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he was getting her back. She had to come back soon. She needed new clothes, probably parchment for her assignments. He waited for hours.

Finally at dusk, Hermione arrived.

"Hermione, we have to talk," he said, pushing himself out of his chair.

She turned on her heels and started for the door. Draco already had his wand out. "_Colloportus_." Her hand twisted the knob and tugged, but the door refused to be moved. She glared at him with clamped lips. Instead of reversing the spell, as if not to give him the satisfaction, she started to her room. She kept her eyes on the floor, not so much of a glance in Draco's direction.

He cut of her path and raised his wand again. "If I have to lock your legs together to get you to stop and listen to me, Granger, so help me I will. But, please, don't force me to sink down any further than I already have. Just listen to what I have to say."

Hermione's met his eyes. After a few moments, she dropped her bag on the floor. "What?" she asked, her voice icy.

Draco's mind searched for that eloquent speech he'd practiced. The words that would win her back endlessly flew his head. But instead he blurted out: "I love you, Hermione. I've loved you for ages. Long before that night in the library. I think about you all the time."

She stared at him, unimpressed by his little monologue.

"Every moment we shared," he continued, "every minute; it was like I was free. I didn't have to live up to anyone's expectations, didn't have to be someone that I wasn't. I... I've never been able to do that before. That's why I need you Hermione: you don't expect miracles from me. You're the only person I'll ever need. You said it yourself; we're like Romeo and Juliet. But no star-crossed nonsense."

He stopped, breathing shakily and staring at her. After a few minutes, a strange look came upon her face, and her mouth opened but moved silently. Draco waited. Waited for explanations, confessions of love, anything that would put her back in his arms.

_I feel I must interject here you're getting carried away feeling sorry for yourself  
With these revisions and gaps in history  
So let me help you remember.  
I've made charts and graphs that should finally make it clear.  
I've prepared a lecture on why I have to leave  
_

"You vile, lying _bastard_!"

"What!" Draco's jaw dropped. That was far from what he expected to hear.

"How can you even say those things? Every word, every bloody syllable is coated in mendacity. You've never loved me!"

"Why would you ever think that?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" she yelled. "Did you think that the stupid Mudblood wouldn't be able to figure it out!" Her eyes burned with rage, tears of anger rimming the edges.

"Hermione, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't bother denying it. You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Her voice broke and she started weeping. "How could you _say _those things?" she cried, stomping her foot for emphasis.

Draco watched her sob, horrified. "Hermione, I honestly have no idea what you think I've done, but I swear I would never do anything that would upset you this much."

She bent down and after a minute of rummaging through her bag, pulled out a handful of crumpled bits of parchment. She sifted through them, picked one out and began reading from it.

"_Dear Father, would you believe that Dumbledore had the audacity to appoint the Mudblood Head Girl? As if this place wasn't going to the dogs before, it's clear it's on it's way there now. I'll have to share a common room with her, a bathroom with that filthy little_..." Her voice trailed off and she let the slip fall from her hand to the ground.

Without missing a beat she pulled out another piece. "_Dear Father, That stupid Mudblood never shuts up. In the common room, in the library, through the walls; it seems like she's always running her mouth just to hear herself talk._"

Hermione threw the pile down. "They're all like that, Malfoy. All with your father's replies on the backs, reassuring you that "my kind" will be taken care of you needn't worry."

Draco was speechless. He gazed down at the small mound of parchments.

"So what was I, Malfoy? Did you tire of the empty feeling you got when you were through using your Slytherin tramps? Thought you'd get off on breaking the heart of a stupid Gryffindor mudblood?"

"Where... where did you get these?" His voice was soft as he bent down and gathered the letters into his hands.

"I needed some extra parchment to finish an Advanced Ancient Runes assignment. So I thought maybe you'd have some I could borrow. And there were just lying on your desk for the world to see."

Wordlessly, he walked around the sofa and tossed them all in the fire.

"So what was it, Malfoy? Is this how you get your jollies? Or maybe this was one of the stupid bets boys make. Did you get twenty galleons for convincing me you cared about me, then tricking me into sleeping with you?"

"Hermione, I would never do something like that to you..."

"Then care to explain what those letters were all about?"

Suddenly, Draco chest welled with anger. "What the hell am I supposed to say to him?" He whirled around to glare at her. "Tell him I've just befriended a Gryffindor muggleborn? That my heart sings when she walks in the room? That I love her? He'd kill me!"

"You hypocritical prick! You say that you love me, and that you need me. We'll never end up together. It's a death sentence. 'Star-crossed' doesn't mean 'happily ever after'; it means 'doomed'."

"I know that, but-"

"Then start acting like it!"she screamed, as if volume would make him understand. "You stand here saying that every moment is like hell for you because I've stopped caring. It hasn't been a picnic for me, either. Do you think I can explain to Harry and Ron why I spend every night sleeping on a couch in their common room? You act as though you're the one here that's been suffering. Stop being so bloody selfish!"

"But..." Draco searched for the words to make everything right again. All he could find was silence.

"I don't love you," she said as she picked up her bag. "I can't. Whatever we had, it's over. It won't happen again."

_So please back away and let me go  
_

_I can't my darling I love you so...  
__Tell me am I right to think that there could be nothing better  
__Than making you my bride and slowly growing old together_

She turned and walked into her room, with Draco on her heels. "I have never loved anyone before, Hermione," he said as he followed her from her dresser to her bed and back again. Her hands moved swiftly as she packed clean clothes into her bag.

"You've got to let this go, Malfoy. You're smart enough to realize that this can never work out." She hefted the strap over her shoulder. "I'm sorry." She placed a hand on his cheek and then walked out of the room.

"No!" he cried, following her. "I...I can't do that." He spun her around, her bag falling to the floor. He grabbed both her upper arms, pulling her closer to him. "I _love_ you, Hermione. Maybe you don't understand how important that is to me, but have to believe that I cannot live without you."

"You're hurting me," she whispered.

Draco ignored her. "Who cares what my father says, or what he think? I don't need him. All I need is you. We're through at Hogwarts in a few months. Them we're free to whatever we bloody well please."

"Draco, please. Let me go."

"We don't even have to stay here, we can go anywhere. Where ever you want. We'll figure it out as we go."

_Don't you feed me lines about some idealistic future  
Your heart won't heal right if you keep tearing out the sutures  
_

"Shut up!" Hermione screamed. She tried to pull herself from Draco grip but he held tight. "Just shut up! We can't just up and leave, you idiot." She continued to struggle against his hold, and when he refused to let go, planted a sharp kick on his shin. Not expecting the blow, he let go.

"I have my family here. I have my friends. You may be fine with just disappearing and leaving them, but I'm not."

"You can write them. Or visit."

She stared at him disbelievingly. "Have you gone completely mental? Do you really believe it will be as easy as just up and leaving? Do you think no one will try to find us? Your father would kill us. To say my parents would disapprove is a vast understand.

"I keep telling you, Malfoy: I. Don't. Want. To be. With you. You seem to be forgetting that."

"But Hermione," he said weakly, "I love-"

"No, don't even say it. Just because you keep saying doesn't mean I'm magically going to fall back in love with you."

"You're not _listening_." He balled his fists in frustration. "Why aren't you listening!"

"Because I'm actually thinking this through! You think that it's just as easy as picking up and going and that everything will fall into place. This isn't a fairy tale; this is real life!"

For a moment, Draco was tempted to as what a fairy tail was, but instead he said, "If you would just thinking about this so negatively, you'd understand."

"There's no positive side here, Malfoy." She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Are you so blind that you can't get that?"

"...yes."

"Why are you doing this to yourself? How is this going to make anything better? All your doing is making this harder for yourself."

"Because, every night that I sleep without you next to me, and every day that goes by without having you there to talk to me and tell me you love me breaks my heart. And I hate it."

"It's going to keep breaking your heart unless you get it through your head that we will never happen."

"It's better than not feeling anything at all," he sighed, looking sadly in her eyes.

_I admit that I have made mistakes  
__and I swear I'll never wrong you again  
_

They stood in silence for a few moments, not sure of what to say next. Finally, Draco walked up to Hermione and took her hands in his.

"I know that what I said in those letters was harsh, and that nothing I can say or do can ever make you forget them. But my father would have been suspicious he'd found out that you were Head Girl and I had said one thing to him about it."

Hermione looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "But why did you have to keep them? Why didn't you throw them out or burn them or something, instead of just keeping them?"

"I don't know. Force of habit, or something. Listen to me. I promise you that I will never speak ill of you ever again." He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them. "I swear. I love you and I promise."

_You've got a lure I can't deny,  
But you've had your chance so say goodbye_

Hermione swallowed and licked her lips, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I won't tell you that I never loved you, Draco. And I can't say that I absolutely don't love you know." She gently pulled her hands from his. "But I can't do this. I can't handle all the stress that will come from you and me being 'us'."

She looked at his face again, the corners of her mouth trembling and tearing rolling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

She pulled her bag onto her shoulder and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Goodbye." She kissed him, her lips salty and moist. After she broke away, she quickly turned on her heels and headed for the door.

"If you hadn't found the letters," Draco called after her, "do you think we could have stayed together?"

She stopped with her hand on the doorknob. "No, I don't think so. This would have fallen apart sooner or later." She pulled open the door open.

"But what happened to Romeo and Juliet?" he cried, taking a few steps forward.

Hermione looked at him over her shoulder. "I've never been one to as much stock as she did in something as fickle as love." And with that she disappeared from the common room.

_Say goodbye_

He stared at the closed door. "Goodbye, Hermione."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Yeah, it was a songfic. I hope you guys aren't mad. The song is _Nothing Better _by The Postal Service. 


End file.
